


Human Error

by SilasSolarius



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, PTSD Sherlock, Post-A Scandal in Belgravia, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Vampire Sherlock, Vampires, Vulnerable Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:37:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1888686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilasSolarius/pseuds/SilasSolarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Jim Moriarty always knew that Sherlock Holmes belong to him in every way.  So when the detective is brutally assaulted after an argument with John Watson there will be he'll to pay... after all no one harms Jim's toys but him. However. unbeknownst to anyone the attack affects Sherlock more than he's willing to show. </p>
<p>A/ n:  I am still working on the next installment for Malificent.  It should be ready in a few days. So until then enjoy.  :-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not nor have I ever owned Sherlock. If I did I wouldn't still live with my mom.

Disclaimer: I do not nor have I ever owned Sherlock. If I did I wouldn't still live with my mom. 

Summary: Jim Moriarty always knew that Sherlock Holmes belong to him in every way. So when the detective is brutally assaulted after an argument with John Watson there will be he'll to pay... after all no one harms Jim's toys but him. However. unbeknownst to anyone the attack affects Sherlock more than he's willing to show. 

A/ n: I am still working on the next installment for Malificent. It should be ready in a few days. So until then enjoy. :-) 

**********************Chapter One***********************

He couldn't even remember what their argument had been about. John had come in from the surgery in an irritable mood and Sherlock had tried to be considerate of that fact, however somehow they still ended up getting into an dispute. The argument. had ended with John calling him a sociopathic freak and Sherlock storming out masking his hurt with anger. Now as he lay battered and bleed into in an alley only three blocks from Baker St. he found himself regretting the entire thing and wondering dazedly what had started it in the first place. His attackers a large group of broad shouldered drunk men, had long since fled and the detective shivered fighting the tears that wanted to overtake him so badly. 

Footsteps, light almost inaudible, approached his prone form and he whimpered trying to force himself away from the newcomer.   
"P-please. No more. "   
He begged brokenly, flinching as a cold callous hand made it's way into his hair. "Sh, sh child. I mean you no harm. You did nothing to deserve such a fate. I will help you get revenge."   
Came a smooth baritone voice a few pitches deeper than his own. Male. Married. Older than he appeared.   
The broken man shook his head weakly. "No, I-I don't want it. I just want to go home and forget this night ever happened."   
Suddenly the newcomer gave a cold laugh his hand tightening in Sherlock 's thick dark curls. "Seems I have chosen correctly. After all the best people to give power is those that do not wish for it. Brace yourself. "  
Before Sherlock could question the warning the man wrenched his head to the side and bit down into his throat. 

A silent scream of agony left the detective as a burning sensation rushed from the wound and spread throughout his battered frame, dimly aware of the newcomer stroking his hair gently and speaking to him in what sounded like Latin. He paid it no heed, focusing instead on the searing white hot agony coursing through him. It felt as if every wound he had ever been dealt had each reopened all at one before being doused in acid. Crying out the detective curled into a tiny ball shaking and trying to comfort himself through the pain. Distantly he wondered who exactly he had pissed of to be so brutalized twice in one night. He also felt his current assailant redressing him from the other assault. 

"P-please. " He sobbed feeling his Monday strain under everything that had happened in the past few hours. "Make it stop! P-please! Please! "   
"Sh, it'll stop soon. Sh, you're okay. They can't hurt you anymore." Soothed the man and Sherlock whimpered thanking every deity in the world as he slipped into blessed unconciousness.   
×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

John paced the room worriedly as he waited for Sherlock to return from wherever he had run to after their arguement the day before. The younger man hadn't returned to their flat after the fight which unusual even for the eccentric detective. In fact everytime they had an arguement, the man would storm out and go bother the Mets or he would lie on the couch while John storm out and went to the pub for a few hours. Then they would text the other to let them know they were alright. 

Sherlock hadn't done either of those. He had phoned Lestrade already and the DI had informed him that Sherlock had never shown up at the yard and that they had been trying to reach him all morning. John had even tried to call the genius himself but the phone went straight to voicemail. At this point he was growing extremely worried and extremely desperate. He was about three seconds away from calling Mycroft for help. 

Groaning, the doctor sank down into his chair, guilt coursing through him. This was all his fault. He come in from the surgery in a bad mood yesterday because he had lost a patient on the table and Sarah had been angry at him once more for snapping at her about her opinion of Sherlock. Of course the detective had tried to be helpful in his own way but instead of helping all he had done was piss John off more and he had snapped. Even now nearly ten hour later John could remember the brief hurt expression that had flitted across his friend's face as he called him a 'sociopathic freak with no regard for others. '   
It made his heart clench painfully in his chest. Taking a deep breath he resolved to give Sherlock one more hour to reappear before he called in Mycroft to help look for him.   
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 

"Did you sleep well, Childe? "   
Came a silky baritone voice, the same voice from the night before. Sherlock ignored the question turning to get a good look at the owner of the voice. He was a male with long crimson hair that fell down his back in loose curls and calm mint green eyes. He wore a form fitting black suit that emphasized his large muscular physique with a matching black dress shirt.   
Automatically Sherlock's mind began deducing. 

Wealthy, extremely so but not overly conspicuous about it. Happily married for more than 20 years. Motherly Wife. Looks to be no older than mid thirties but is most likely older. Honest man with high morals but will retaliate if threatened. Tread carefully, supernatural aura. Status: Dangerous. 

"Who are you? " He asked softly bypassing the man's question entirely. Said man chuckled not minding in the least. 

" My name is Caderyn DeLaRose. I found you in the alley last night after you were beaten and... assaulted by those animals. Speaking of which, are you alright?" The detective nodded slowly, before hesitantly placing a hand over the spot where he had been bitten, wincing in rememberance of the mind numbing pain he had suffered as a result. 

"What did you do to me? " He rasped noting absently that all of his senses felt enhanced, as if they had been magnified on an enormous scale. A sad look crossed Caderyn's aristocratic features and Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "What are you? 

"Excuse me? "The man asked shocked and Sherlock frowned. 

" You are not human, you can't be. You move with a strange, nearly feline gait. You are older than you appear, not just nuns few years but by decades. And last night when you... bit me, you said you were giving me power.That is not something a human would say. In fact if I had to guess your species I'd probably say vampire or werewolf. What are you? What have you done to me? " 

The creature blinked. "That was amazing. How do you did you do that? " 

"I merely observed. "   
"How?! You were practically half dead when I found you last night and know for a fact you passed out before you saw me. "   
"As I said I merely observe. Now please, the question." 

The elder male pouted. "Fine. I am a Vampire. There aren't many of us, in fact ours is the last coven left. "   
"Ours? "   
" Yep. You're one of us now ,pup. Don't worry it's not as bad as humans write in their little books. We are immortal...sort of. The only way to kill us is by beheading us with a blade coated in vampire blood. We drink blood but we don't take enough to kill. Generally we can survive on one pint of blood a week and human food but it is healthier just to have a glass of blood at breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday, hence why we get ours from the blood bank. 

Sunlight, crosses, and garlic do not affect us, that is a myth. We only need to sleep maybe three hours a week. And we stop aging once we hit 35 years old. Also your coven is your family. Your sire, me of course, is the you direct alpha. As such you will be compelled to garner comfort from them rather than somdone else. There are no laws, but if you tell anyone of your change make sure they can keep it to themselve I think that's it. " 

Sherlock nodded closing his eyes briefly to absorb the information, startling as his sire took a seat on the bed and gently grasped his hand.   
"What is your name, Little One. " 

"Sherlock Holmes. "   
Caderyn nodded then bit his lip. " Do you have anyone you need to call? " 

Hesitating, the dark haired man nodded. "My flatmate. "   
Smiling the elder handed him his phone and stood. My wife will be in shortly with you clothing and to help you get you crest. "   
" My crest? "   
"Yes. Everyone in our family wears one. You are family so you will need one as well. Lizzy, my mate, helps our children figure out how they wish to wear it, whether it be as a necklace, or a watch, something. Also, your siblings will be in to meet you after Lizzy. " Sherlock nodded dialing the familiar number of his blogger. Shooting his new childe a soft smile, the vampire left the room to give him some privacy. 

The phone rang , once, then twice, then... 

"Sherlock? "   
Relief flooded the detective as the doctor's worried voice sounded on the other end. 

" John. " 

" Christ, Sherlock, where the hell are you? Do you have any idea how worried everyone is?! " 

Despite himself, Sherlock flinched violently at the harsh rebuke in his friend's voice and bit his lip. 

" John, I just stayed the night a hotel. I figured you needed time away from this 'sociopathic freak'. " He responded coldly, shoving his feeling into a room deep with in his mind palace and locking the door. He could practically hear the man's answering flinch and guilt. 

"Sherlock, I didn't mean that and it was wrong of me to say that. I'm sorry. " 

"John, Don't say sorry for being right.I'll be home later. Bye."   
Hanging up before the other could speak, he gave a quiet sigh and tossed the phone onto the nightstand, before taking in his surroundings. He was a large elegant bedroom decorated in pale blues and soft creams. The bed he was lying on was a king sized pillow top covered in silk white sheets and a thick downy soft blue comforter. The floor was polished marble with glowing blue designs in it. 

"This is your room, love. Whenever you wish to stay, this room is all yours. "   
Sherlock jerked, startled, and turned his piercing silver-green-blue gaze tower the door. The woman standing in the doorway was gorgeous with long ebony hair and warm hazel blue eyes. She wore a sleek royal blue dress with crimson embroidery, that emphasized her generous bust and slender figure. Once more his mind set about deducing. 

Caderyn's mate. Maternal. Russian descent. Physical age, 35. Medical profession, once not anymore, too much death. Loves children and small animals. Worried for... me?

Puzzled by that deduction, he tilted his head.   
"You are concerned... about me. No one does that... other than John... and mummy on occasion. " 

Lizzy blinked. " Of course I'm worried about you, sweetheart. You are my son. " 

Shock hit him once more. " Really? "   
No one had said that to him in years. His parents loved him of course, but they tended to fear his intellect and ended up treating him different from how they treated Mycroft. Ducking his head feeling a bit shy all of a sudden, he blushed at the raw hope in his voice. His sire's mate softened at his words and pulled him into a deceptively strong embrace. 

"Of course, love. You are my son just as the others are my children. What's your name, Childe ? " 

" Sherlock. " He responded softly curling into the embrace on instinct. 

Lizzy smiled. "I've never met a Sherlock before. I like it. "   
A tiny but genuine smile crossed Sherlock's lips shocking the vampire with how it transformed the already beautiful man. 

His eyes warmed from their pale silver-blue-green into a pale turquoise, full pink lips curled in the slightest of ways. Shaking her head she pulled away from the embrace and stroked his hand with her own dainty ones. "So how would you like to wear our family crest, Lockie? " 

Her son hummed thoughtfully then nodded to himself.   
"I'd like to wear it as a choker, it's the most practical option. " 

"Oh? " 

" Yes, I work with my hands so can't get it as a ring. A normal necklace is much too loose... and I don't like anything wrapped around my arm."   
He explained calmly as her stood and began to get dressed showing no care for modesty much to her shock. She had been the one to clean him up as he had turned and as such she knew exactly what those humans had done to her baby the night before. Not even her husband knew just how brutally the had hurt him. 

"How can you stand being so exposed after what they did to you last night?"   
She whispered and he blinked then gave her a grim chuckle. 

"You are a woman and you are one of my mother's. Had it been any male but father I assure you I'd be alot less calm. "   
Nodding the woman threaded her hand through his and led him from the room.

"Come , everyone should be in the dining room." 

Sherlock said nothing, following her silently and observing everything around him. He noted that the house they were in was an elegant three story mansion. Bedroom approximation,anywhere between ten and twenty each with its own bathroom. The decor was a rather tasteful mixture of soft creams, velvety blacks,and silky blues. The floor was a nicely polished marble with the family crest painted in the middle. The crest was a crimson shield with a black border. Inside of the shield was a pale blue rose, two dangerous black vipers twined around the stem fangs poised for attack.It was admittedly a very nice design. 

They stopped outside of a the dining room, realizing something very important.   
"It's soundproof. "

Lizzy nodded. "All four of you siblings are mated to each other. It would be a bit strange if we could all hear eachother and since some couples don't seem to know where their couplings are supposed to take place we had to soundproof every room in the house. " 

Nodding at the answer, the detective steeled his nerves and entered the room.   
Inside where three male vampires and one female. His mind automatically deduced each one. 

The first male was a slender male, his height with shoulder lenght blond hair and icy blue eyes. He wore a pair of tight blue jeans and a baby blue poet shirt. 

Youngest. Gay. Mated. Older than appears. Likes stuffed animals. Wants children but afraid to speak of it. Profession: student at uni. Area of study: Photography. 

The second male was built more like Caderyn's broad muscled frame and height. He had close cropped black hair and curious jade eyes. His skin was a smooth lightly tanned and went well with his loose crimson jeans and black vneck t-shirt.

Second Youngest. Gay, mated to the first male. Weary of strangers but willing to adjust. Above average intelligence. Former soldier. Wounded in action. Psychosomatic trauma in wrist. Quiet but not anti-social. 

The third male was by far the easiest with his wild crimson hair and roguish grin. He was a pair of well worn blue jeans and a loose white wife beater that showed off his muscular frame.

Fun loving. Adrenaline Junkie. Caderyn and Lizzy's son biologically. Loves video games, especially the violent ones. Mated to the female. Protective of family. Profession: Mechanic. 

And finally the female. She was a classical beauty with long russet curls and smooth Carmel skin. Her eyes were a warm hazel green that seemed to welcome him. 

Oldest. Mated to the mechanic. Of native American descent. Cautious of strangers but not overly so. Fashion consious but not conceded. Pianist. 

It took him less to make and log the deductions into his mind palace. Just as her finished, Lizzy ushered him into a chair beside the youngest. 

"Everyone, this is your new brother, Sherlock. Lockie, dear, these are your brother's, Matthew "-the mechanic gave a lazy wave-" Jared, "-the soldier nodded in acknowledgement- " and Alec."- The blond gave him a weary look and cautious wave.-" And this is your sister, Emma."  
"Nice to me you,Sherlock." 

He nodded, shying away as Matthew moved to hug him, revulsion making his skin crawl.His brother frowned, hurt.  
"Ain't gonna hurt ya,pup. Just wanted to welcome ya to the family." 

Sherlock hmmed at his words , but turned to Jared, repeating the same words he had said to john nearly six months previous.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Iraq.How did you-?"

"Your haircut screams military, not british though so american. Your hands and face are tanned but theres no tan line above the wrist. You've been abroad but not on vacation. Haircut,tan line, wounded in action, psychosomatic injury, afghanistan or Iraq." 

He explained patiently, shrugging as they all stared at him. "That was amazing!" Alec exclaimed makinthe others nod in agreement. He frowned and tilted his head at the response, before pushing away his confusion at their reactions for a later date.   
"Are you some sort of psychic? " Lizzy asked curiously and he shook his head. 

"Consulting detective, only one in the world. I invented the job? "   
"Consulting detective? "   
"Yes. It means whenever the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me. " 

They all nodded. 

"So were you on a case when dad found you? " Emma inquired and his facial expression went blank. "No. "

"Okay so just to be clear you're not some sort of psychopath, right? " Matthew joked, only to blink as his brother shook his head. "High functioning sociopath. " 

"You're serious. " Jared deadpanned and Sherlock nodded. 

"Well, That's new. "

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's having nightmares. Moriarty is curious.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Sherlock.   
A/ N: The next chapter of Malificent is slow coming along, My damn tablet erased most of what I had for the story so instead of posting the next few chapters today like planned I have to go and rewrite. them. Thank you guys for being patient, hopefully it'll be up soon. In the mean time enjoy the next installment of Human Error. 

Mari:* sighing* Does anyone even read author's notes any more? 

****************Chapter Two********************

It was late in the evening when Sherlock returned to Baker St. By this time John was beside himself with worry and had even called Mycroft, who was also present when the sleuth returned. When he entered the flat, the doctor jumped to his feet. 

"Where the hell have you been? What the hell did you mean on the phone? " He yelled and his friend recoiled violently silver and sky eyes wide. 

Mycroft frowned at the reaction, reasons for it running through his mind only to be swiftly discarded. Surely the good doctor hadn't been abusing his little brother... right? He glanced at Dr. Watson, noting that he too seemed puzzled by the response. How curious. Obviously if he had been hurting the detective. he would've expected this reaction, however his shock assured him that the man was innocent of such accusations. Therefore he couldn't help but wonder why he had reacted in such a fashion. Suddenly, he realized where he had seen that reaction. A few years ago Anthea's daughter had been brutally beaten and raped while on her way home from school. The girl had displayed much the same reaction Sherlock had when confronted with anger and had killed herself only days after the attack. Dread and fear pooled in his gut and he found himself hoping fervently that he was wrong. Just this once. 

"May I speak to you in private, Brother mine? "

The younger Holmes frowned forcing the fear from his features. "No. "   
Expecting the response, Mycroft pursed his lips, trying to find a way to get the other to listen to him only for his eyes to catch sight of the beautiful leather choker wrapped around his little brother 's throat. The band of it was an inch thick with a strange crest situated perfectly in the middle. 

New, recieved it this morning. Hand made by a woman over the age of fifty. Made only moments before being given to Sherlock. Prized possession. 

His gaze moved to his brother's clothes. 

Same clothing as yesterday. Washed this morning and mended. Attacked, clothing was ripped. Button on trousers was torn off but sewn back on. Oh Gods, Sherly. Who dared to hurt you that way. 

Sherlock met his eyes briefly, then looked away, knowing that his brother had deduced what had happened to him... or part of it. John frowned looking between the two before snorting. Obviously he was being left out of something big. 

"What the hell is going on?! " 

He snapped and this time Sherlock glared at him. "Nothing! I just stayed at a hotel alright?! Sebastian Wilkes rented a room for me! " He yelled in annoyance, before storming out of the room and into his bedroom., slamming the door behind him. Mycroft sighed and stood.

"Keep an eye on him, John. My brother is not the best at making good decisions when they concern himself. " 

This said the man left the flat, leaving John alone wondering what the hell was happening and what Sherlock was hiding from him. 

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° 

Hands. Cruel, cold, callous hands gripped his hair roughly, their owner smirking down at his battered frame. "Not so clever now are ya? "   
The man sneered at him and he glared at him, jerking as his assailant's drunk friends laughed, hands tugging at his clothing. He struggled as hard as he could, fear overiding his logic as he realized exactly what they planned to do to him. 

"No! No, don't! " He shrieked kicking one of the men who snarled and stomped down hard on his leg. It snapped easily wrenching a scream of pure agony from the genius. The leader, the man holding his hair shoved a dirty rag into his mouth while another man gripped his wrists tightly. Terrified beyond belief, he didn't even notice that his clothing had been removed until something was forced into him. White hot pain surged through him and he felt as if he was being split in half, body clenching trying to force the intrusion out. 

Without even pausing the man inside him began to thrust harshly, obscene grunts and groans leaving his throat. Sherlock screamed and continued to fight, tears streaming down his face as his mind shattered more and more with each thrust. "Shit look at ya. So pretty an' broken. " The leader slurred drunkly palming his own arousal as he watched them. More obscene groans and grunts sounded around him and the detective felt his stomach turn as he realized that they were all getting off one his suffering. All six of these men were enjoying watching him break. He vomited and one of the men laughed, driving the makeshift gag, only to shove himself into the brunette's mouth roughly. Horrified, Sherlock bit down as hard as he could causing to man to cry out and punch him in the face. Jerking himself from his captive's mouth, he glared down at him and Sherlock couldn't help but to smirk before he retreated far into his mind away from the horror that was reality. 

A choked gasp left Sherlock's lips as he bolted awake trembling violently with self loathing and emotional agony as he recalled exactly what he had been dreaming about. A month had passed since that horrific night and yet he still wasn't able to put it behind him. During the day it was easy to hide, he made sure not to deviate much from his usual personality saving his breakdowns for when he was alone. Lizzy and Caderyn helped him, of course, being the only ones that knew what had happened and his new siblings helped him adjust to his new species quite well. He and Emma got along the best, however and that is whom he spent most of his time with when he left Baker St. She listened to as he spoke but didn't judge him, instead choosing to chastise him gently whenever he became a bit harsh. 

Of course out of the entire coven, he was closest to Caderyn and had even taken to calling the man Father, or in the case really bad nightmares, Papa. The ancient vampire was extremely patient with him , often holding him when everything became too much. He regaled him with tales of time long since past and was the father Sherlock could remember wishing for all those years ago. 

Strong familiar arms wrapped around him and he whimpered turning his face into his sire's throat. 

"Sh, feed, pup, then we'll talk. " For a moment he wanted to disagree but in the end he did as bid allowing his fangs to sink into the elder male's tender flesh. Blood, rich and warm, flooded his mouth and he suckled on the wound reveling in the feelings of warmth and safety that came through their bond. It made him wonder why he neglected to feed as often as he was supposed to. A quiet sound from his sire drew him back to reality and he pulled away, full and content. Licking the wound closed, he looked up at the one man he now trusted the most. 

"Are you alright now, Lockie? " Caderyn rumbled calmly and Sherlock nodded, having given up on dissuading his papas horrible nicknames for him weeks ago. His papa scowled and gently grabbed his face forcing him to meet his eyes. 

"Sherlock, I felt your distress all the way at the manor. It was so strong your mother felt it. "   
"I refused to let him come without me. " Lizzy added drawing her cub's attention and Sherlock bit his lip. "Sorry. " He rasped and the matronly vampire frowned. 

"Don't apologize , love. Come on, talk to us. " She coaxed. The detective sniffled tears filling his eyes as the self-loathing returned with a vengence, dragging hate, anger, and pain with it. "They-they - I wasn't strong enough and they kept taking and taking and taking! They kept shattering my mind and I - I hate them! I hate the fact that I let them take that from me! the one pure thing I had left! " He sobbed forcing himself to keep his voice down lest he wake John.It didn't hide the anguish in his voice however and Lizzy gave a soft sniffle tears streaming down her cheeks as she cupped his face in her strong gentle hands. 

"What happened to you was NOT your fault in ANY way! You are an amazing person and for those pathetic bags of pus to have hurt you that way was a cruelty I wouldn't wish upon ANYONE. Do you understand me William Sherlock Scott Holmes DeLaRose.?" She whispered fiercely and he gazed at her brokenly, wanting to believe her words with all his heart. A black tear fell from his silver cyan eyes and she gave him a tiny smile. "Trust me. Trust us. " 

"I hate them. " He finally whispered after a moment of silence a second black tear joining the other until they streamed in steady trails down his porclein cheeks. Caderyn gave a quiet growl behind him pulling him closer. "Then end them. " He rumbled and a soft manic giggle left Sherlock giving them a glance at just how broken there beloved fledgling was. "Oh no worries, I will and they will regret the moment they first set their sites on me. One way or another they will PAY. " 

**********************************************************

Jim Moriarty was concerned. 

For the past few weeks he had been watching his beloved playmate and he had noted that there was something very wrong with the other man. 

First he had disappeared off the consulting criminals radar for almost 19 hours.Then when he returned he had even lied to his little pet about having the bully from his past rent him a hotel room refusing to say anymore on the subject. 

Secondly, there was the way he'd sometimes leave 221b long after Dr. Watson had gone off to bed ,not returning until a mere half hour before the doctor rose. 

Then there were the smaller less noticeable things. The way he recoiled when touched or startled. The way he unoticeably shied away from muscular men and those bigger than his. The worsening of his already eating and sleeping patterns due to nightmares and loss of appetite. Even the way he went about crimes gave away the fact that something was wrong, his eyes lacking the pleased glow and smug arrogance they usually hold after discovering something obvious yet missed by the ordinary simpletons he continued to work with. 

Yes something was definately wrong with his detective... and he would find out what. 

After all a broken playmate was is no fun and no one is allowed to break Sherlock Holmes... except for him , of course. 

TBC...  
A/ N: Idk how well this chapter came out. My damn auto correct kept changing stuff. I went back and fixed what I could find but let me know if you find something I missed.   
-Claw.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's breaking. Moriarty is planning something and suspicions are confirmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/ n: I don't own Evanescence 's song 'Hello' but it seemed to be appropiate. THANKS so much for the positivery feedback.

Disclaimer: Of course I own Sherlock, that's why I'm not British, famous, or rich. It all makes sense now.

***************Chapter Three********************** *************

Emma smiled softly as her and Sherlock lounged in the family room, her new sibling rambling on and on about his latest case and the complete idiocy of the Scotland Yard. Since his arrival almost nine weeks previous, the entire family had grown very protective of the detective, who they could had been hurt terribly by something even if he tried to hide it. She had her suspicions about what had been done to him, of course.They all did, after all there was only so reasons why a handsome man like Sherlock would shy away from most bodily contact if the other seeing was a male.However, they refused to confirm those suspicions unsure if they'd be able to control their bloodlust if proven correct. 

The vampire ran a gentle hand through her baby brother's soft curls, forcing the thoughts away to focus on the tale being spun by the younger. Just as he wrapped up the story his phone beeped. He frowned and tilted his head curiously, as did she. After all, it was three a. m., there was no reason for anyone to be contacting him and the Lestrade never text him after one a. m. Emma raised an eyebrow when a slow dark smile crossed his features after reading the text and she peaked over his shoulder to view the message. It read: 

'Sneaking out? How very naughty of you and you left your pet all alone, none the wiser. ' - JM

"Someone special, Lockie? " She asked and he chuckled softly drawing the attention of Matt, who had just entered the room. "Oh, Lockie got a boyfriend? " Sherlock blushed faintly but shook his head. "Moriarty is not my boyfriend. I don't do relationships. " Emma tilted her head.  
"Then who is he? "   
Sherlock smirked. "An insane psychopath that fancies himself as my enemy and has assured me that he will burn a heart out of me. " 

The couple stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he was joking. They found none and Matt gaped. "You're serious? "   
"Yes. The game we play is the most exhilarating distraction I've ever had. "   
"Game? " Emma questioned, wondering just how sane her brother was. Her mate was wondering the same thing and it showed in his incredulous expression.   
He nodded. "He is a consulting criminal. Most of my cases are of his creation. Never have I had such an interesting opponent. "   
"You're insane. " Matt muttered,while Sherlock text the criminal back. 

'My nightlife is none of your concern, Moriarty.' -SH 

'Oh? A virgin with a nightlife? Does Johnny-Boy know? ' -JM 

Sherlock flinched violently at those words, memories of that bigger flashing behind his eyes, reminding him that now even that innocence had been taken from him. Emma and Matt scowled at the words, his reaction confirming their suspicions. "When? " she growled lowly paying Alec and Jared no mind as they entered with their parents.   
Lizzy made a worried noise as she say the distress in his features, but he shook his head with a brittle smile and turned to his big sister. 

"The night I was turned. " He responded honestly, reveling in the soothing feel of her slim fingers massaging his scalp. "My flatmate and I got in argument and I stormed out. They got me when I was heading home from the New Scotland Yard. After it was over, they ran and Papa found me. " He explained absently as he sent a reply to his enemy. 

'My virginity has nothing to do with you.Stop mentioning it. ' -SH 

'Aw, no fun. Fine. New Case. 8 a. m. Come play. ' -JM 

'Game on. '-SH

Sherlock grinned, feeling more like himself than he had since this entire fiasco had begun. Caderyn blinked at the sudden change, watching his childe's silvery blue green eyes light up at the words. Obviously, the childe felt more for this Moriarty than even he realized and if anyone could help him heal it was this psychopath. He chuckled softly, while his other children encircled the detective protectively, still realing from his confession. Everything would be alright... eventually. 

****************************************************************

Sherlock scowled darkly as he and John left their latest crime scene. The case left by Moriarty had been barely a six and he had been able to solve it in less than an hour. It irked him immensely. How was it that ordinary people did not see such obvious things. His phone buzzed and his scowl darkened. There was only two people it could be as John was beside him, and he had just spoken to Lestrade. In addition to that, Molly always called and his coven only text afternoon. As it stood, it was only nine a. m. leaving the only possible senders as Moriarty or Mycroft, neither of which he wished to speak to. Beside him, John frowned. 

"Aren't you gonna answer that? "   
The sleuth rolled his eyes at the question. "No it's either Mycroft or Moriarty. I don't care to speak to either of them at the moment. "   
John stopped and stared at him. "Mori- Jesus Sherlock! Why are you still texting that psychopath?! "   
"The game, John. " He responded as if that explained everything which to john it kind of did. Shaking his head in exasperation he followed the younger man as he hailed a cab. As they rode in the cab, John took a moment to exam his best friend. The man had started to withdraw from him after their fight the night of his mysterious 19 hour disappearing act and he refused to disclose any information what had really happened. In fact it was almost as if he truly thought that John would believe the ridiculous bullshit he had spewed about Wilkes renting a hotel for him. Then there was the beautiful choker he had returned wearing. When questioned about it. he would merely change the subject and the one time Mycroft had asked him to take it off he had nearly had a fit. 

"Shut up. " Came a smooth voice and the doctor found himself looking up at the object of his thought, blinking.   
"I didn't -"   
"You were thinking, it's annoying. So stop. " 

With a huff he moved to look away only for the choker around the other's neck to once again capture his attention. He had never been this close to it before, but now that he was he could see that it had 'Sherlock' emblazoned on it in spidery cursive. "It's hand made? " He asked curiously and Sherlock glanced at him briefly. "Yes. "   
"Who made it? " 

Sherlock didn't respond. Instead he brought one large yet delicate hand to the neck piece, curling his fingers around the crest gently. His mercurial eyes softened a small smile playing on his pale lips. It was a beautiful transformation, one John had never seen before and he knew without a doubt that had it not been for his own heterosexuality he'd have pursued a relationship with his precisely to watch him transformation this way again. As it stood a trill of fraternal protectivness ran through him and he found himself willing to do anything to protect this softer more fragile Sherlock. Anything, including breaking the sociopaths icy exterior if need be. 

****************************************************************

Jim was bored. 

The promising criminal he had set to play with Sherlock had turned out to be dull and ordinary, so much so that he was actually ashamed he had sent him. Then there was the fact that his precious sociopath was upset with him because of said criminal, so much so that hwas actually refusing to respond to Jim's messages. He frowned at that thought. No, that just won't do. After all if he started to bore the beautiful detective the other would stop playing the game or find a new playmate like the Adler woman.

His frown deepened and he felt surge of possessiveness course through him. That couldn't be allowed to happen, at all. Sherlock was his. So how to entice the other out to play again? He pursed his lips on thought before a slow dark smile crossed his lips plans coming together in his mind. Oh, oh yes that was brilliant! The psychopath gave a low chuckle caressing the picture of Sherlock he had as a screen saver. It had been taken by one of his inside agents only days before Sherlock had met his pet doctor. The man's pale eyes were lit up with the exhilaration that came from solving a case , porclein cheeks flush with excitement. It was his favorite out the multitude of photos he had collected of the man over the years. 

"Time to play, Sherlylocks. " He purred. Oh yes play indeed. 

******************-************-*********-******-*****-****-***-**-* 

HANDS.  
Taking.Tearing. Punching. Bruising. Hurting.-Crack-

"Please-please stop! Please!

'Ring around the Rosies'

FEET.   
Kicking. Broken bones. Bruised organs.-Crack-  
"No! Stop! It Hurts! " 

'Sherlock's breaking slowly'

Thrust. Punch. Kick. Gag.-Crack!   
"p-please. " 

'Break him. Burn him. '

Whimper. Choke. Grunt. Groan.-Crack. -

"N-no. " 

'His minds gone now.' 

 

Sherlock jolted as a hand landed on his shoulder drawing him out of his memories and he looked to meet John's worried hazel eyes. "Are you alright, Sherlock? I've been trying to get your attention for almost five minutes now. " The sleuth nodded, supressing a shiver of utter disgust at the hand touching him. Why was John touching him? Didn't he know how filthy he was? Couldn't he see the dirt that clung to his skin with the same tenacity bubble gum stuck to hair? If so then why, why was he touching him? 

His finger twitched, itching to scrub and scratch at his skin until he was clean again but he ignored the impulse. "What is it, John? I'm thinking."   
The elder male frowned for a moment, noting how his first inquiry was ignored but choosing to let it go.   
" I was just letting you know that I'm leaving for my date with Sarah. " 

Nodding he watched as his friend left the flat. Once he was gone, the detective entered his bedroom, gathered some clean PJ's and locked himself in the bathroom. With extreme effort he managed to hold it together as he turned the shower up to it's highest temperature and undressed. It was only when he was under the scalding spray that he allowed his masks to fall and his solid control to break. 

He scrubbed until his skin turned a raw pink and the water tinted a light pink. Until his throat was sore and torn from his hysterical screams and cries. As he cleaned himself his body shook harshly , remembering, reliving and it was all he could do to stay upright even as his knees went weak. 

"Shit look at ya. So pretty an' broken. " 

He whimpered at the phantom whisper, shoving his fist in his mouth as phantom touches and whispers overwlmed his mind.   
"Not so clever now are ya? 

"Freak. " 

"Whore. " 

"Monster. " 

"Psychopath. " 

Keening and teetering on the edge of madness, he collapsed to his knees and curled into as small a ball he could. As he rocked, a broken laugh left him and the haunting voice from his dream began to sing and unfamiliar melody. One that described him perfectly and he promised himself that he would store it and compose some music for it. 

Playground school bell rings, again  
Rain clouds come to play again  
Has no one told you she's not breathing  
Hello. 

 

He calmed slowly and began to sing along as he dressed, despite knowing he had never heard the song before. 

I'm your mind, giving you someone to talk to  
Hello. 

He began to mentally compose a violin melody for it and as he moved about the living room, he gathered a notebook jotting down the notes. But he never stopped singing along. 

If I smile and don't, believe  
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream  
Don't try to fix me I'm not broken  
Hello  
I'm the lie living for you so you can hide-   
Don't cry

Tears filled his eyes as he sang and his voice grew stronger. 

Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping  
Hello   
I'm still here! All that's left of yesterday 

His voice broke on the last word and he began to cry, unaware that his brother had been just outside the door of his flat and had heard it all. 

*********************************************************** 

Mycroft felt his cold heart break as he listened to his brother sob, blood chilled as the words of the haunting song the younger had just sang rang throughout his head. No longer were his suspicions merely suspicions, they were fact. Someone had raped his baby brother... and he hadn't been there to protect him. He closed his eyes painfully and turned to leave, having come over to ask about the reports his surveillance team had given telling him Sherlock had snuck out. However now, shame coursed through him. 

Had he really gotten so caught up in his political matters to pay attention to his brother? To protect him from heinous brutalities like this?

Even as he climbed into his car and settled into his seat beside Anthea, he knew that the answer was a resounding yes.

With this thought and this revelation in mind Mycroft, for the first time in almost twenty years, allowed himself cry. He cried for his brother's stolen innocence and for his failure.   
He cried and he prayed for forgiveness.

'Oh God, Sherlock. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me... because I don't think I can forgive myself. ' 

TBC......


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a kidnapper on the loose...and John and Lestrade meet Caderyn

Disclaimer: Don't own guys, sorry.I'll sure we all wish we did...but we don't.  
»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»» Chapter 4««««««««««««««««««««««««

"Lizzy's missing." Caderyn announced as Sherlock entered the family room. The detective froze at his words, being the only one who heard the edge in his sire's voice. Two weeks had passed since his breakdown and since he had visited his family so he had snuck out to visit as soon as John had gone to bed. 

"When was she last seen?" He asked softly curling up on the loveseat beside his sire whose broad arms wrapped around him with a faint tremble.   
"Two days ago. She went to Tescos to get some ingredients for a cake she planned to bake and she never came home." Emma whispered and Caderyn's arms tightened around the newborn vampire in his lap.   
"She hasn't called or text anyone either and all I'm getting from our matting bond is static. She's unconscious but alive." The elder murmured. Sherlock frowned deeply.  
"This actually sounds alot like the case I'm currently working. Four people have been kidnapped from Tescos in the past two weeks. Unfortunately since this isn't normally my specialty Lestrade didn't call me in until today."  
His father began to tremble his grip on him nearly tight enough to break him as he spoke in a soft sad voice.

"Have any of the victims been found?"

Turning in his embrace, Sherlock have him a reassuring smile cupping his face in his large delicate hands. "No, however there's a chance they're alive. We.Will.Find.Her." He promised firmly allowing his emotions to shine through in his pale eyes. He showed his determination and his hope as well as the small glint of manic he normally tried to hide from the other. Caderyn gazed back then gave him a bleak smile. He didn't respond just allowed his grip on his son to slacken and the slender man nuzzled him reassuringly. The others cuddled closer to the two and they lay there together until the sun rose taking comfort in the presence of each other.

******************************************************************

Jim was in a wonderful mood. Why, you may ask? Because his newest game for Sherlock had just begun. He had kidnapped five people and left false clues for the detective to follow when really all five victims were with Jim. Then when the detective found them he'd make him choose between his pry and one of the victims. It was brilliant!!! Cackling to himself the consulting criminal sent Moran to check on their prisoners watching on his screen as his detective approached the crime scene of the latest victim, Dr. Watson in tow. Life was good.

////////////////////////////////////////////

The clues were fake.

Sherlock realized this the second he stepped onto the crime scene where Lizzy had been taken.The 'blood' found at the crime scene was actually high fructose corn syrup dyed red. Lizzy's mobile lay on the ground along with the bags of ruined ingredients and the woman's purse.

She was taken from here but she wasn't injured. The kidnapper wants us to believe the victims were hurt. All the victims are alive!

Eyes widening at his realization the sleuth turned to Lestrade. "The blood is fake. It corn syrup. The kidnapper wants us to believe that the victims were killed but all of them are alive and were unharmed when they were taken.Ours almost like-" He paused and his eyes got even wider. "Moriarty." 

In his pocket his phone buzzed and he pulled it out, pursuing his lips as he read the message.  
Got it in one,Sherlylocks. You know I just love Surrey.-Jm

 

"Sherlock, What is it?" Lestrade questioned and his friend glanced at him, pale eyes full of something indescribable.   
"Your kidnapper, he's holding them in Surrey. Its Moriarty."  
Nodding the DI wrote his deductions down noting the slight tremors running through the younger man and the exhaustion he was trying to hide. 

"Are you alright, Sherlock?"

The sleuth frowned in confusion tilting his head to the side.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"  
"You look exhausted, mate."  
The other pursed his lips before he sighed. "I'm fine.Let's go."

Lestrade frowned watching the slender man leave. He didn't believe Sherlock was fine. In fact , the other hadn't been the same since his 19-hour disappearance months previous.He avoided rape cases with abhorrence and he refused all forms of physical contact. In addition to this, John had informed him that Sherlock had started sneaking out once he thought The doctor was asleep which led Lestrade to believe that he had started his more unsavory recreational activities. Sighing he resolved to watch the other closer and figure out what the hell was going on with him, praying that his current conclusion was wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One month.  
Lizzy had been missing for one month and Caderyn could feel himself losing hope. Of course he hid his feelings from his children as best he could yet somehow Sherlock always knew.

Sherlock. The crimson haired man smiled sadly at the thought of his youngest child. The newborn was closer to him than any of his other children despite bring the youngest because he saw the elder as his savior. It was both worrying and endearing. He liked knowing he was loved by his Childe yet he knew that with the fragile state the other was in, he was the only thing keeping him from tipping over the edge. Not only that, he could tell that the vixen was working himself to exhaustion to reunite him and Lizzy. It made his heart heavy and he found himself wishing that the consulting criminal Sherlock was so enamored with knew what was wrong with his son. Maybe the man would be the one to heal the beautiful detective.

The door to his bedroom opened and the object of his thoughts entered telling and pale, eyes full of fatigue.

"Lockie?"

His son looked up at him and collapsed on his arms , exhausted."

"We found them. Lestrade sent us home to rest because we're going in tomorrow. As far as we know all of the victims are alive and well."

A vivid smile crossed Caderyn's lips.  
"I'm coming too. I want to see the criminal that has captured your heart."

Sherlock blushed vividly. "He- Moriarty isn't-its not like that!" He protested and his sire chuckled deeply pulling him into his strong embrace.  
"He can heal you, Little One. When he texts you, you light up and you smile. Its a wonderful transformation. If this Moriarty is so much as mentioned in a sentence your entire focus is captivated. Your feelings for him run deeper than you realize. " The beauty stared at him then his eyes dulled and he looked away.

"Its merely excitement from the game, Papa, nothing more." He whispered in denial and Caderyn sighed realizing why his child was so adamant at denying himself.

"They are haunting you aren't they, love." In his arms Sherlock stiffened and swallowed.He didn't speak for a moment and when he did he avoided the question entirely.

"I need to go.I'm supposed to be at Angelo's getting dinner." The vampire lord sighed and dropped the subject placing a gentle kiss on the newborn's forehead. "Alright. Stay safe."

Nodding the slender man pulled away from him, kissing his cheek lightly. "I will." He replied and then he was gone.

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»««««««««««««««««««««

Mycroft for the first time in a very long time awakened in an unfamiliar place, tired to a chair. It was a position he hadn't been in since earlier in his career and admittedly not one he was very comfortable with, however he forced himself to stay calm and survey his surroundings. He was in a warehouse of some kind with five others all of whom were tired up as well. Of fellow captives there were two other males and three females, all unconscious. The two males were large broad shouldered men with tanned skin and dark hair. The females varied however.

The first had long platinum blonde hair and pale skin. She wore a tight plaid mini skirt and a bright pink tube top. She couldn't be older that eighteen.

The second woman had short chestnut colored hair that fell around her slack face in stylishly messy layers and lightly tanned skin. She wore a Loose crimson t shirt and a pair of black biker shorts that showed of her long shapely legs.

The last woman was the only other conscious captive. She had long ebony hair that fell down the back of the chair and framed her face, deathly pale skin, and warm hazel eyes. She wore a form fitting white summer dress covered in the grime that came from days in captivity. As their eyes met, she smiled.

"Its good to see that you're awake. Our captor thought his minion had accidentally killed you." She greeted with a thick Russian accent and he nodded slightly.  
Before he could speak however, the door opened and their captive entered. 

Moriarty.

The psychopath grinned at them as he entered. "Yay, you're awake. Good I thought you were gonna sleep through the fun. Especially you Mr. Holmes."

The woman across from Mycroft gave a sickly sweet smile. "And miss it when my husband find you and guys you like the spineless bag of pus you are? Never."

At her words Moriarty's glee grew. "There's only one person in the world that can keep up with me, madam. And I'm afraid your husband isn't it."

A mysterious smile crossed the vixen's blood red lips, her eyes flashing with a sort of untamed darkness that made even Moriarty recoil for a moment, yet she said nothing else. 

"What exactly is your obsession with my brother, Moriarty?"

Mycroft growled. Since his discovery a month prior he had resolved to step up and do a better job protecting his brother and even while being held captive by the man that held his brothers concentration he refused to fail. Not this time.

Blinking, the consulting criminal's smile changed, softening slightly. Then spoke in a possessive, dangerous tone.

"He is mine."

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»«««««««««««««««««««««

"Lestrade's waiting." Sally stated without preamble as Sherlock and John entered the NSY lobby. Following the woman they found themselves being led into a large conference room where Lestrade waited with several other officers including Anderson and DI Dimmick. The DI looked up at their arrival and nodded in acknowledgment before gesturing to the man beside him. "Everyone this is Lord Caderyn DeLaRose. He will be accompanying us to Moriarty's lair."

One of the officers snorted. "Why is a civilian accompanying us, especially with so little training?" He sneered only to find himself being shoved against the table harshly one arm being twisted roughly behind his back.

A deep familiar voice spoke in his ear. "Watch your words or I'll rip your tongue from your mouth and force you to coke on it." It rumbled softly to where only he could hear it. He swallowed harshly, Sighing on relief as the sociopath released him. Everyone else stared at Sherlock in shock while Caderyn chuckled softly.

"What the bloody hell was that ?" John hissed at his friend who shrugged and suppressed a flinch.   
Recovering swiftly Lestrade shot his friend a look promising the would talk, and began to speak.  
"Lord Caderyn is special ops trained and has been assigned to us by the Queen herself to help us rescue Mycroft Holmes and Lord DeLaRose's wife, Lady Elizabeth."

"Holmes, sir?" Anderson questioned shooting a look at Sherlock who had froze at the mention of his elder brother.

Sherlock drowned out his response, fear gripping his heart. How had they gotten Mycroft? Didn't the elder have a team of specialized bodyguards to prevent this from happening? A hand on his shoulder startled him from his thoughts and he jerked violently only to find himself looking into Caderyn's worried mint green eyes. Giving a slight nod to let the other know he was fine, he turned to follow Lestrade and the others from the room, never noticing how John looked between him and his sire suspiciously.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caderyn meets Moriarty, who isn't exactly happy about the Lord's closeness to Sherlock. And two of Moriarty's victims are connected to that horrible, horrible night.

Disclaimer: I don't own. If I did Mary would've been killed by Mycroft.

}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}Chapter Five{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{

Laughter.

Deep and malevolent, full of demented promises, filled the air as Moriarty exited the warehouse. However the criminal wasn't laughing, oh no. The laughter came from Lord DeLaRose whose eyes gleamed despite the sniper aimed at them. Moriarty scowled at him but ignored him to face Sherlock, his lips curving into a dark smile.

"Have you enjoyed our latest game, Sherlylocks? I thought it was fun, especially watching you play so elegantly."

Sherlock smirked and tilted his head, eyes gleaming with an emotion that while Jim couldn't name, seemed familiar nonetheless. The he spoke, voice a smooth silly baritone.

"But the game had yet to have ended therefore my opinion is not yet needed. Where are they, Moriarty?"

At his words, Caderyn stepped forward, his laughter silenced,a wide grin in their place. "I already have their location, Childe." Moriarty's scowl returned with a vengence, his dark eyes noting their closeness with possessive fury.

Caderyn sent him a dark smirk, eyes glinting with a challenge when they met his.

Furious, the consulting criminal turned his rage filled glare on Sherlock.

"Here are the rules of the final round of our current game. Only four of the six captives will leave here alive." There were cries of outrage from the policemen and John. Cade however chuckled. Sherlock merely raised an eyebrow. "Continue."He prompted.

"If you refuse, John Watson and Gregory Lestrade will die."He gave a sudden and dangerous smile. "Only for of you will be allowed inside."

Sherlock nodded. "Lestrade, John."He called and the two men stepped forward, ignoring the rest of the groups outrage.

As Moriarty led them inside John leaned over to Sherlock.

"Please tell me you have a bloody plan."

His friend smiled slightly.

"Of course."

When they stepped into the room they found all five hostages in the middle of the room, each tied to a separate chair. each hostage was awake, gazing at the door.

Automatically, Sherlock's gaze sought out his brother, relief flooding as he noted no visible injuries on the elder man. Then he looked at lizzy who sent him a strained smile, eyes dark due to lack of feeding.

"Quite a rival,Lockie." She commented and Sherlock smirked lightly.

Moriarty glared at her, noting the familiarity between her and his detective. Lord DeLaRose rushed to the woman side murmuring to her and holding her head to his throat, his long crimson hair hiding her from veiw.

Smirking he turned to his detective who was had just finished releasing his brother from his bonds.

"Alright! There's only four contestants left! Who will be leaving alive?" He cooed cackling as Dr. Watson scowled angrily.

"Are you mad?! They're just innocent people! Sherlock please tell me you aren't going to listen to this psychopath!" He yelled angrily and his friend glanced at him before turning to examine the remaining three hostages. As he did so though, his entire being went blank.

############################

He couldn't breathe.

Terror amd hatred flooded his very being

As he came face to face with two of Them. Flashes of that night flashed in his mind and he could feel himself nearing a breakdown.

Pain.

Beating. Hurting. Bruising. Breaking.

Beg.

He shivered, staring at the faces of the two men, noting the fear in their eyes. Ah so they knew it was he they had desecrated. They thought he wanted revenge. Good.

Hatred overwhelmed the terror coursing through him at their expressions and he giggled, mask shattering.

"S-Sherlock?" John stammered as a glint of mania appeared in his friends expression. The detective turned to Moriarty a small deranged smile on his lips.

"Them."He purred softly. "I want them to die. Make them suffer."

The criminal stared at him in shock. He hadn't expected the man to actually choose. He had thought the man had some brilliant plan to escape. Yet here he was sentencing two men to death and requesting that they suffer.

The two men in question protested the choice.

"No please! We're sorry! Don't let him kill us! Please! You'll never see any of us again!" They cried pleasing with the detective who cocked his head and smiled mockingly.

"No please! Don't!"He mocked, giggling even as hatred burned bright in his pale eyes.

"I begged you to stop. To let me go, but did you? No. You kept taking and breaking and bruising until I couldn't closer my eyes with feeling all encompassing terror. I hope you burn in hell." He murmured softly, caressing their faces as one would a lover.

"You're mad." One man whimpered and another giggle left the man who at that moment looked entirely like the sociopath he claimed to be.

Mycroft and everyone else watched him wide eyed until suddenly Lord DeLaRose and his wife stood at Sherlock's side,their expressions arctic.

"So, you are the pathetic insects that dared to harm my Childe." The crimson haired lord began darkly and the eyes of their audience widened, each stunned by the events taking place.

"Wait! What's going on here?! Sherlock?"

"No! Shut up!" Lizzy snarled at John who flinched away from her, looking at Sherlock for help but the younger man didn't so much as glance at him. Instead he fell silent a dark smile playing on his lips, turning to Moriarty.

"Will they suffer under your toys, Jim? Because I don't think Daddy wants to share."

The criminal swallowed, his pants tightening at this new side of his Sherlock. What had these men done to him to make him react so adversely to their presence.

"That's it? No magnificent plan to allow you all to escape? You're losing your touch, darling."

Sherlock didn't reply still waiting for a reply to his own question. When none came he sighed as of Jim had disappointed him and glanced over at his sire.

"Seeing as to how Jim seems incapable of human speech. They're all yours, milord."

Lizzy giggled, high pitched and cruel at her husband's side, the sound eerily reminiscent to Moriarty's own laugh.

"Sherlock! Stop them! What the hell has gotten into you?" Lestrade yelled at his friend hoping to talk some sense into the younger man. The genius turned to him and tilted his head. Then he spoke in a soft harsh snarl.

"Why should they live?"

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"Why should they live?"

John froze at the absolute hatred in his best friend's voice. He had never seen the younger male exhibit such a blatant disregard for another human's life. In fact, despite what everyone else thought of the self-proclaimed sociopath, John knew damn well that the man did in fact care very much about others especially his victims, so why was sherlock acting this way?

Why did he hate these men so much?

A scream sounded from the direction of Lord DeLaRose and his wife and he shuddered as did Lestrade who was staring at Sherlock in horror. The DI's dark eyes weere pleading with the young man for either an explaination or a recantion of his last statement but none was given. Instead, those pale silver and sky eyes looked away from them to observe the carnage being created at his order. Beside him, Mycroft watched as well, cold sable eyes full of malicious pleasure as he watched the two nobles work over the criminals that had _hurt_ his brother. All of them were so focused on the carnage they almost forgot the presence of a certain consulting criminal.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

So his detective _did_ have a cruel streak,hm? _That_ was interesting, especially seeing as to how the other was on the side of the angels, protecting the ordinary with that brilliant mind of his. Jim smirked at that thought and moved to _his_ Sherlock's side, placing a hand on the other's arm.

"Well, _this_ is interesting. I didn't actually expect you to allow him to kill them. I mean you're on the side of the angels."

Those pale eyes he loved so much glanced in his direction for a moment , then a small dark smile crossed their owner's full lips.

"Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one **second** that _I am one of them_."(1)

The consulting criminal blinked at that response, noting the growling undertone in those words. Then his smirk widened into a seductive smile.

"No. I don't supposed you are, Sherlylocks. I don't suppose you are. You're in a category all of your own. I'll be seeing you."

He purred, and after placing a kiss to the back of Sherlock's large delicate hand, he disappeared with his men in tow. A pale blush crossed the detective's cheeks and he stared after the older man with a confused frown.

What the _hell_ was **_that_**?

::::::::::;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;::::::::::;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Caderyn chuckled softly as he watched the byplay between the consulting criminal and his fledgling.

James Moriarty's infatuation with his son was almost palpable, even the DI and the doctor could see it, as could the other hostages. He noticed the as the mastermind spoke Sherlock leaned into his side almost subconciously and he smiled. It seemed like he'd be getting a new family member soon. The funniest part was, His little Lockie was in love and hadn't even noticed yet.

He turned to the decimated bodies behind him, watching as his mate drank her fill, released the final hostage then moved to his side.

"Poor Lockie. They hurt him so bad he won't even acknowledge his mate beyond being his rival." She commented quietly her accent thick showing how much that upset her. The vampire lord nodded in agreement.

"Indeed. Then there's that flatmate of his."

"His flatmate? Doctor Watson?"

"Yes. I don't like him. While I acknowledge that Lockie is a better person since his arrival, if the stories he's told me are true, I don't like how much he tries to dictate his life. He's his flatmate _not_ his sire."

Lizzy nodded giggling to herself when Moriarty kissed her son's hand and left him standing there confused while he made his escape.

"Yes that _is_ a bit of a problem. Well, no worries, love, they know of us know so there should be no reason for them to keep us away from him. Now are you calm enough to return to the group?"

"Yes. Lets get over there before the humans give our boy anymore trouble."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

The ride back to the police station was a very tense affair. None of those that had been inside the warehouse had spoken after they had exited it altough Mycroft could tell that both Dr. Watson and DI Lestrade had questions. He did as well in fact but he hid this fact better than they did instead choosing to observe the familiarity between Lord DeLaRose, Lady DeLaRose and his little brother as they spoke in hushed whispers in the seat across from him.

He noticed how every few moments Lady DeLaRose would run her hand through Sherlock's unruly curls as if he would disappear at any given moment. Sherlock sat on her right,pale eyes dull as if all the life in him had been drained away leaving him a vacant husk, and Lord Caderyn sat at her left with one arm around her waist possessively, long crimson hair fall over one shoulder like freshly released blood.

The quiet of the vehicle was disrupted as the latter's mobile went off.

"Matt." He greeted calmly, chuckling at the person at the end of the line.

"Of course he was. You know Lockie is always right."

Dr.Watson's eyebrow flew up at the nickname as did DI Lestrade's.

"Yes, however there was a bit of a situation. Lockie saw two of _them_ and after ordering their execution at my hands has retreated into his mind palace. It would be appreciated if you and Emma met us at the station."

The caller answered in the affirmative and the two explained a few more words before the call ended.

"Emma and Matt are gonna meet us?" Lady DeLaRose questioned and the noble grunted nodded, pulling Sherlock over his wife and into his lap.

The detective didn't so much as stir.

When they arrived at the police a young couple standing outside. The male was well over six feet tall with large chisled muscles and playful blue eyes. A wild mane of crimson hair played around his head falling to his broad shoulders. His girlfriend (or wife) was just the slightest bit shorter than Sherlock and bore warm hazel green eyes that stood out against her russet curls and carmel skin. The latter gased as she spotted them and rushed over, pulling Sherlock from Lord DeLaRose gingerly.

"Oh, Lockie." She breathed caressing his cheek. "Come now, little brother wake up. Who'll play with your darling playmate if you don't?"

Jealousy pooled in Mycroft's gut at her words and grew when _his_ brother stirred in her arms. Those pale eyes that used to look at him in such admiration now gazed up at _her_ in kind then their owner straightened. It was then that fear made itself known to Mycroft.

Maybe...Maybe he was losing his brother to these strangers.

**TBC...**

**(1): Lol, this has to be one of my favorite Sherlock quotes.**

**A/N: So I've rewritten this chapter over and over and I've finally found one I like, although I don't really like the ending. :-( Anyways, R &R and tell me what you think.**

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay so here’s the long awaited seventh chapter for Human Error. Enjoy! 

** Chapter Seven **

“Explain.”

The order was brisk and curt as it escaped Lestrade’s lips and Sherlock felt himself bristle in return, the comfortable numbness he had fallen into giving way to cold fury.

Why couldn’t they understand that those…those…things had to be killed! Why were they looking at him with such disappointment and anger, like _he_ had been the one to do something wrong? _They_ had done wrong not him! _They_ had tried to break him and had tried to steal his beloved mind from him with their cold hands and punishing thrusts. _They_ had deserved much worse than they had been given!

Emma and Matt placed their hand on his arm to placate him while Lizzie sent the DI a dark glare. Caderyn and Mycroft stood beside the door, watching the proceeding silently and John stood beside Lestrade his eyes full of both disappointment and concern.

“They deserved it.” He replied and Lestrade glared at him.

“Says who, Sherlock? You?! You don’t get to make calls like that! Those were people, mate! Actually living human beings! You can’t just order the end of a life like that!”

Sherlock shot to his feet, returning the glared with one of his own, mania bright in his pale eyes. He thought of everything those _creatures_ had done to him. Of how afraid he’d been during the attack having never been hurt in such a manner. He thought of his mind palace, now dark and cold because of them and inside he felt the barely held together shards of his sanity start to shatter even more.

“They deserved it!” He repeated. “They deserved that and so much _more._ They deserved to scream in agony and beg for death. To be helpless and humiliated as their minds are shattered and their bodies are broken. They deserved complete and utter devastation and the _only_ reason I was so dreadfully _merciful_ was because of you, John, and the other victims!” He purred, his voice low and sinister and full of rage.

Lestrade shrunk away from him wide eyed and John faltered back a step. Caderyn placed a gentle hand on his youngest son’s arm to placate him.

“Maybe now isn’t the best time to speak of this matter. We are all tired and stressed from the day’s happenings, so how about we go rest and reconvene here in the morning.”

“No one is leaving until we know what the hell just happened. Two men were killed tonight by you and your wife on Sherlock’s order and that is not something I can just let go.” John nodded in agreement to Lestrade’s words and Matt moved to stand in from his baby brother protectively.

“So what? You can kill to protect Lockie but we cannot?”

“Protect?  They were victims!” John yelled and Mycroft gave a soft snort.

“No they were beasts. Mindless bags of pus and skin ruled by their instincts and their lower anatomy.” He replied coolly before turning his gaze on his little brother.

Sherlock smiled at him innocently, but his quicksilver eyes were burning with a fierce madness that threatened to engulf anyone brave enough to meet them.

“There were six. Now there are four.”

Lestrade swallowed, a haunting picture coming together in his mind. He’d seen something similar to this before, during his early years on the force. He’d been called out on a disturbance call and had found a young teen, only sixteen years old, beaten, raped, and left for dead in an alley. He’d tried his best to help her, but the girl, a genius much like Sherlock, had snapped. She’d gone and hunted down her assailants, and she’d tortured them, killed them then called the police. When the police arrived she was sitting beside their bodies, humming softly and covered in blood with a mania in her eyes that matched the glint in Sherlock’s bright gaze. He shook his head, praying he was wrong.

“No.” He whispered and his friend blinked at him.

Mycroft shot him a sharp look, then nodded and the DI’s heart broke.

“God, Sherlock. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Lestrade?” John inquired bewildered and Lestrade turned his wet eyes on the former soldier.

“Those bastards…they r-raped Sherlock.”

***************************^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^************************

_“Those bastards…they r-raped Sherlock.”_

Moriarty froze as those words left the DI’s mouth, rage engulfing him as they registered in his mind.

Suddenly everything made much more sense. Why Sherlock seemed more manic and uncontrollable. The last night sneaking out, everything. He had had one of his minions bug the conference rooms, sure that Sherlock would explain to his pets why everything had happened a it had, and while he had expected _something_ this hadn’t been anything near what he had expected. It also explained Sherlock’s anger upon hearing his pets defend the two men Lord DeLaRose had killed.

_“They_ _deserved that and so much more. They deserved to scream in agony and beg for death. To be helpless and humiliated as their minds are shattered and their bodies are broken. They deserved complete and utter devastation and the only reason I was so dreadfully merciful was because of you, John, and the other victims!”_

A primal snarl of fury left the consulting criminal and he sent about finding everything he could about those men that had hurt _His_ Sherlock. He would _eviscerate_ them.

After all, no one was allowed to touch his toys, especially Sherlock. Sherlock was _His_ to break and his alone.

 

**TBC….**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Uh oh! Jim found out! Lol.  
>  Okay so I admit this chapter fought with me a lot because I wanted to capture the rage and mania Sherlock felt and put it into perspective as well as give a brief glance at how Jim feels. The next chapter should be better (Hopefully) so tell me what you guys think.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is out...well most of the truth...

**Chapter Eight**

Silence reigned following Lestrade's heartbroken statement and John could do nothing but stare at the DI blankly. Suddenly it seemed like everything had slipped into place. Suddenly, Sherlock's behavior made more sense. The stoicism, the refusal to take cases that even remotely involved sexual abuse, all of it.

They raped Sherlock.

They  _raped_ Sherlock.

...and it was all his fault.

It was his fault Sherlock had been out so late  _alone._ His fault the detective had been so distracted.

It was all his fault.

His blue eyes moved to the silent detective, who had yet to confirm or deny Lestrade's statement, and tears welled in his eyes.

"It's not true, Sherlock. Please tell me it isn't true." He begged but Sherlock looked away, silver-and-sky eyes burning with rage and shame in equal measures.

Seeing he wouldn't get a response, the doctor turned his pleading gaze to Lord DeLaRose and his wife both of whom gaze him a sympathetic look.

"My husband," Lady DeLaRose began, sending Sherlock a worried glance, which went ignored by the slender man. "My husband found him shortly after his attackers fled and I treated his wounds. If he'd been left there he would've bled to death, so I kept him over night to ensure he would be okay. We've been counseling him and he is doing better...but his rage toward those insects grows with each passing day."

Lestrade swallowed thickly.

"Fuck, Sherlock. I'm so sorry." He whispered hoarsely and his friend looked up at him, his face once more a blank mask. Only his mercurial eyes, bright and blazing, gave away just what he was feeling.

"Don't be ridiculous. You didn't know...I didn't want any of you to know."

Matt placed a gentle hand on his back.

"You need to rest, little brother. I'll call Jared and Alec and let them know you're staying with us tonight."

Sherlock sent him an affronted look. "I am not a child! I do not need to be coddled like one." He snapped and the red-head sighed sending his father a pleading look.

The Lord sighed as well, pulling his wife into his arms.

"Lockie," He started, drawing his youngest childe's attention. "We've all had a very long day and you especially have had a very trying evening. Due to that we will be together as a family tonight."

Mycroft scowled."He is not your family."

Lizzie snorted. "You have no say in the matter, . Lockie is as much ours as he is yours."

"Highly doubtful, Lady DeLaRose, considering I knew nothing of your acquaintance with my brother until this evening."

The woman smirked. "Then perhaps your network isn't as knowledgeable as you think it is. If it were you'd know that Moriarty bugged this room before we arrived and is listening to our every word. Isn't that right, Jim."

Sherlock's phone beeped and the detective smirked when he read the text there.

_'Correct.'-JM_

"He said 'correct', mother." He rumbled softly and Mycroft stared at him surprised.

Sherlock hadn't even called their own mother her proper title, preferring to call her by her given name once he was old enough to talk and yet here he was calling this woman 'mother'. Why?

"Mother?" He whispered and Sherlock looked at him.

" They are my family." He replied.

"And me? Mummy?"

His brother hesitated then nodded.

"You are also my family."

John stared at the two brothers, then sighed wearily, his mind still whirling with the revelations of the evening.

"How about we all go home and rest tonight, then reconvene tomorrow."

Everyone nodded, not knowing that when morning hit, even more revelations would come to light.

*****SHERIARTY*****

Leonard James, 40.

Michael Sanders, 41.

Jason Garrett, 45.

Timothy Mathers, 40.

Finding the CCTV footage of the six men running away from an alley near baker street only hours after Sherlock went missing was ridiculously easy now that he knew who to look for. He'd searched for all the footage pertaining to the two men that had been killed by the DeLaRose couple dated within the nineteen hours that Sherlock had been missing and had found a video of them running away from an alley only a few blocks from baker street with four other men. Quickly running a facial recognition check on them gave him the identities of his newest pray and he smiled darkly.

"Sebastian."

His right-hand man appeared beside him silently, head cocked to the side in an unspoken query.

"Find these four men and bring them to me alive."

The assassin raised an eyebrow, silently pitying the poor bastards that had caught his master's attention.

"Another game for the detective?"

Jim shook his head, smile widening into an expression with entirely too many teeth.

" Oh no. No this is a present."

Sebastian shook his head but took the papers the consulting criminal handed him.

A present, huh.

He smirked.

Things were about to get interesting, especially if he was reading the savage rage and possessiveness in the other man's gaze correctly.

Sherlock Holmes wouldn't know what hit him.

**TBC...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I've always imagined that if Sherlock and John could have a close relationship then Moriarty and Moran could be their reflection, sorta. Kinda like Good BFFs vs Bad BFFs.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The time has come, loves. Human Error is hitting its last four or five chapters. There may be a sequel, but I highly doubt it. However ya never know.
> 
> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF TORTURE! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

**Chapter Nine**

_' I have a gift for you.' - JM_

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, tilting his head curiously at the playful tone of the message. A week had passed since the true nature of his disappearance had been revealed and in that time, he hadn't heard a peep out of his criminal.

He froze, turning over the thought in his head.

Since when was Moriarty  _his_ criminal. Perhaps his Sire had been on to something when he'd hinted that Sherlock's feelings for the consulting criminal ran deeper than he thought they did.

 _"Why would he want you? You're filthy and used."_  His mind whispered and he gritted his teeth at the truth in their words, glaring down at the words printed on his screen. The voice was right. Why would Moriarty want him? To the criminal he was just an obstacle to conquer, a game to beat.

 _ **"And what of his behavior in the warehouse?"**_ Asked another voice, contradicting the other one.  _ **"The flirting and the hand kissing indicate that he is interested at any rate. There's also the extreme jealousy he gave off before realizing that you saw Caderyn as a father figure. Plus he is, mighty possessive of you."**_

His frown deepened. While he had seen the jealousy of the criminal he had assumed that it was more due to the fact that he was paying him less attention rather than his close proximity to Caderyn. And Moriarty was a possessive man in general whether it be rivals or victims if they were his then he wanted it to be know. His amorous behavior at the crime scene had just been another part of the game, one that had been displayed since their meeting at Barts.

He shook his head, forcing the thoughts from his mind as he text the criminal back.

_'A present?'-SH_

_'Well more like a few presents. The first should be arriving at Baker Street when you arrive.'_

He raised an eyebrow stepping from his cab as it pulled up in front of Baker Street. On the step was a plain brown package, with his name scrawled across it in Moriarty's spidery scrawl. He kneeled and lifted it turning it over his hands curiously.

The box was about the size of a shoe box and the width and weight of a thick novel. He shook it lightly and smiled as he heard a thumping sound inside.

 _'Figured it out?'_ Moriarty text him and he frowned.

 _'It carries a slight scent of blood so its obviously a body part. The box is small and there is only on object thumping against the inside so a small body part, one that weighs the same amount as a book so not eyeballs, obviously. A hand.'_ He responded with a satisfied smirk. His criminal's response was immediate and full of pride.

_'Correct.'_

He chuckled softly, tucking his phone back in his pocket and heading inside to reconfirm his guess. Mrs. Hudson smiled at him as he entered, a tray of hot scones and fresh biscuits held in her small weathered hands.

"Good morning, Dear." She greeted. "Is that something for your case?"

He shook his head and she smiled slyly. "A gift from an admirer then?"

He blushed faintly, happy that he'd been able to keep his shame from her. The woman loved him like a son and he knew that if she knew of what had happened to him it would break her heart. She smirked deviously in response, the kind old lady act she kept around everyone else falling just for a moment to reveal the clever moll underneath.

"Is it from your Moriarty?"

His blush darkened. "He's not  _my_ anything!" He protested and she giggled, turning to walk up the stairs.

"What ever you say, dear. What ever you say." She replied.

He stared after her for a moment then took a seat on the stairs to tear open the package. When he did he gasped and stared down at the familiar hand inside.

_A large tattooed hand swung down and met his cheek roughly, the thick rose gold ring on the index figure leaving a cut on his cheek. His assailant chuckled as he hit the ground and yanked him up by his hair to hit him again. He bit his lip, focusing his stare on the black scorpion tattoo curling around the back of the man's finger._

The hand was curled into a fist, the scorpion on the back displayed proudly under the blood coating the appendage. Blood pooled under the amputated appendage telling him that the person it had been removed from was still alive and beside slid between the fingers of the appendage was a folded piece of paper. He slipped it from the hand's grip, uncaring of the blood streaking it and opened it. It read:

_He has many more. So does his friends._

_Enjoy your gift. The next one shall arrive shortly._

His breathe hitched and he forced himself not to smile. Moriarty had figured out the identities of all the men and had captured them. He didn't even bother to ask himself if the criminal had the right men because he just knew that the man did. He wished he could've had just one of them but he knew that under Moriarty and his men they would suffer for their crimes against him. They would  _pay_  for what they had done and somehow that was enough for him.

* * *

Sebastian Moran was not a faint hearted man.

He'd seen the best and worst of what men could do, had experienced and given torture and killed innocents and monsters alike. More importantly, he'd witnessed every facet of Moriarty that there was from the psychopathic genius to the lovesick criminal (which weren't really all to different from each other if he were to be perfectly honest). All the same, he had never seen anything like what he was seeing now.

He'd returned shortly after dawn with all of the men his boss had requested and he hadn't been fully prepared for the pure unadulterated rage that had taken over the man's features when he saw them. The consulting criminal's dark eyes had darkened even more into deep abysses of madness, his lips curled into a snarl so dark that, for the first time in a long time, the sniper had found himself feeling fear in the presence of his friend. There had been no playful quips or taunts, no mocking smirks, none of it.

"Leave Garrett. Take the others to the basement. I'll deal with them later." He'd commanded and Sebastian had immediately obeyed, unwilling to get on the bad side of  _this_  Jim.

When he'd returned from his task he'd found Garrett chained to a chair with Jim pacing in front on him like a caged animal ready to attack.

"How dare you," The criminal snarled lowly at the bound man. "How dare you touch what is mine! No one,  _no one_ is allowed to break Sherlock Holmes but me! He is  _ **mine**_."

"I-I'm sorry! We didn't know, alright! We were drunk an' we were jus' lookin' for some fun. Not our fault the bitch got smart!" Garrett replied struggling in his bonds. Jim froze and Sebastian felt a wave of sympathy for the stupid captive, wondering what they had done to Jim's precious detective. A slow dangerous smirk crossed Jim's lips.

"Let's have some  _fun_ then, Jason." He purred, pulling a knife from his pocket. In a deceptively strong grip he grabbed the large man's wrist and began to saw it off, giggling as the man screamed and thrashed.

"Did he scream?" He snarled at the man as he worked. "Did he beg you to stop?"

"Please," Garrett sobbed. "Please let me g-go!"

His plea went ignored and the other man continued to saw at his wrist until his entire hand was separated from his body, blood gushing from the stump. He set the bloody appendage down and smirked evilly.

"Can't have you dying, now can we? The fun is just beginning." He grabbed the bloody stump and pulled out a cigarette lighter and Garrett jerked in his grasp, fear in his eyes.

"No, please! Ple-ahhh," He screamed as Moriarty lit the lighter and went about cauterizing the stump. He screamed and struggled as valiantly as he could but by the time Moriarty had finished he'd passed out from the pain. Jim sneered at him in disgust and put the lighter away, gently picking up Garrett's disembodied hand.

"Take him to the others. I want to know when he awakens."

Sebastian nodded and watched as he left the room, before turning to his friend's unfortunate victim.

"I pity you, my friend. You shouldn't have touched Sherlock Holmes." He rumbled, undoing the chains and heaving the man over his shoulder, knowing without a doubt that in Jim's mood, none of their captives would be leaving alive.

**TBC...**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF TORTURE! TRIGGER WARNING!

**Chapter Ten**

Jim smirked darkly as he stared down at the trembling frame of Jason Garrett. After their first...session together he'd allowed the man the reprieve granted from when he'd fallen unconscious. Then when he'd awakened he'd had Sebastian retrieve him again so that he could get Sherlock another gift. Unfortunately, Garrett had shattered so quickly under his tender mercies and now only two hours into their second session the man was shaking where he sat, tears streaming down his cheeks. Both of his hands were gone, the stumps left behind crudely cauterized in their wake. Blood staining his naked thighs from where Jim had emasculated him and cauterize it.

"You're going to die here." He said conversationally. "You and your friends, you're all going to die here. All because you wanted to have some fun."

The man whimpered, trying to curl in on himself despite the chains binding him to the chair. The criminal mastermind's smirk widened into a truly manic manifestation and he sat down at his captives feet, cross-legged, his trusty knife in hand. He grabbed the man's right leg and began to saw at it from the knee, chuckling in response to the horse screams that left the man. Blood squirted from the wound landing across his face, but he paid it no heed as he worked.

"You deserve this." He rumbled feverishly. "He was mine to break, mine to shatter. You had no right to touch him."

Garrett continued to scream, trying and failing to arch away from the pain. In neat precise movements the psychopath separated the leg from its body and set it aside, paying the gushing wound no mind. Instead he began to cut through the other leg, watching as his victim grew weaker and weaker with every moment.

"Your friend Michael is next. Then Leonard. And I may just save your dear friend Timothy for my Sherly. He deserves to play too. Don't you think?"

The bound man fell limp in his bonds and didn't respond, his chest slowly stilling. Once he was still, Jim straightened and began untying the bonds before heaving the body and the dismembered limbs over his shoulder.

"Bring Michael up here and strap him down. I'm going to send my detective his present."

His men obeyed wordlessly, a wave of pity rushing through them at the thoughts of their boss' next victim. After all Jason Garrett was just a warm-up and his fury was still bubbling just beneath the surface.

* * *

The next present came just before dusk. The box was long, almost two feet long and almost a foot wide. Once more it was wrapped in nondescript brown paper with his name scrawled across the top.

He smiled, a tiny dangerous little grin and dragged the box inside, noting with slight interest that it weighed the same amount as a heavyset adolescent. He raised an eyebrow curiously and lugged it up the stairs into his and John's flat. When he entered he found Mycroft and John waiting but he ignored them in favor of ripping open his new present. Once he did, he giggled maniacally.

Inside was a disembodied torso marred by few tattoos, two disembodied arms with cauterized stumps where the hands should've been, two disembodied legs with cauterized stumps for feet, and a shoe box sized jewelry box. He opened the box, giggling harder as he took in the sight of the bodies other hand and feet, disembodied penis lying beside them delicately. He heard John retch behind him but he paid it no heed, instead he continued to laugh hugging the box to his chest.

A sudden question struck the detective and he tilted his head, pulling his phone from his coat.

_'Do you like it?'-JM_

_'Very much. Where is his head?-SH_

Jim didn't respond and he forced himself not to pout. Damn him, he wanted to know.

"Sh- Sherlock?" John whispered and the brunette blinked, turning back to him.

"Yes?"

"Shouldn't we call Lestrade?"

He frowned at the doctor. "Why?"

John stared at him incredulously and even Mycroft seemed a bit bemused.

"Brother mine, you were just sent a corpse. A dismembered corpse." He hinted and Sherlock scowled.

"They're gifts."

"Gifts?! Sherlock corpses are not g- I'm calling Lestrade."

The detective glared at him but didn't respond clutching the box tighter and wishing that his family were her so that they could see the marvelous gifts sent by his criminal. He paused.

There was that thought again.  _His_ criminal, but Moriarty wasn't his, not yet. He refused to take a human as his mate just to suffer through losing them. He frowned. Why was he thinking these things? Moriarty was his rival, nothing more, nothing less.

Why did it feel like he was lying to himself?

* * *

Fifteen minutes passed before Lestrade arrived and when he did he was carrying another box with Sherlock scrawled across the top. The detective smiled upon seeing the box only to frown when Lestrade refused to give it to him.

Instead the DI circled the open box on the floor, dark eyes scrutinizing it carefully. It was an testament to all his years on the force that he didn't so much as flinch upon seeing it. Instead he turned to Sherlock with pursed lips. Sherlock smiled innocuously.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

"Another one?"

Sherlock nodded. "Moriarty sent them."

Lestrade's eyebrow rose and he really hoped he was mishearing the affection in his young friend's voice as he spoke the consulting criminal's name. Unfortunately as he looked in Sherlock's eyes he knew he wasn't. The quicksilver hues were full of love and a softness that he was sure Sherlock hadn't even known himself to possess.

He handed the detective the package in his hands and watched as he tore it open with a zeal he normally reserved for his cases. Inside the package was a head, one he was almost 100% sure belonged to the body on the floor. Sherlock stared at it blankly, then grinned viciously.

"Three down, three to go."

**TBC...**


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF TORTURE! LAST TORTURE WARNING PROMISE...maybe

**Chapter Eleven**

Sherlock was in love.

The fledgling was very much unaware of this fact but Caderyn could see it clear as day. It was in his pale silver-and-sky eyes whenever another one of Moriarty's gifts arrived. In his voice whenever he spoke the consulting criminal's name. It was captivating to watch and it made his heart swell every time he was privileged with it because it meant that his childe was slowly healing.

Even now as he sat in the sitting room with his mate and all their children he watched the detective smile that soft, sneaky little smile he always got while texting the psychopath. In a way he could understand their love, their attraction to each other. They were both broken, gravitating to the one person they'd found that could challenge them, match their intellect and surprise them. They'd found their soul mate in a world where people feared them for their minds and ostracized them. A world where even most who seemed to accept them held them at a distance.

He could see it in the was the DI Lestrade and John Watson continued to berate Sherlock for his moral ambiguity, never asking him just why he was that way or taking the time to figure it out. In the way Sherlock had so readily latched on to the idea of the DeLaRose clan being his family despite the fact that both his birth parents and his elder brother were still alive. It endeared him to Caderyn's heart more than he'd ever thought possible.

"What are you thinking about, Dear Heart?" Lizzie asked, drawing him from his thoughts and he smiled at her, basking in her warmth as she lay in his arms. Even now, nearly two weeks after she'd finally been found he could barely bear being apart from her. They'd spent most of their time curled together in one room or another, sometimes in the presence of their children, other times not so much.

He nuzzled her throat, pressing a chaste kiss to the pale unblemished flesh.

"Lockie and his mate."

Alec perked up from where he sat on the other side of the room while Sherlock blushed.

"Lockie, you've found your mate?" He asked and everyone stared at the blushing man who shook his head. Lizzie giggled at his denial.

"Oh hush, Childe. There is no need to deny such an interesting creature." She chastised and his blush deepened, even as possessiveness flashed in his eyes.

"What's his name?" Jared asked curiously and Sherlock sighed.

"James. James Moriarty."

"That consulting criminal you told us about?"

"The very same."

Matt chuckled. "Makes sense. From what I've heard he seems to be the only one that can keep up with you."

Caderyn and the others nodded in agreement and Sherlock smiled shyly, then looked down.

The vampire lord, sensing his change in mood, moved to his side and cupped his face gently.

"What is it, Little One?"

The younger man stared at him with sad, pale eyes.

"If Moriarty is my mate...why would he want me? I'm...damaged."

The red-head forced back a snarl, cursing the humans that had broken his child, not for the first time. Instead he smiled reassuringly.

"You may be damaged, but you're not broken. Trust me, childe. Even of you were he'd still want you. As he told your mother and Mycroft, you are his."

Sherlock smiled, eyes full of a possessiveness stronger than any Caderyn had ever seen.

"And he is  _ **mine.**_ "

* * *

"You've been quite busy lately."

Jim spun around as he entered his study to find his detective sitting at his desk, cradling the head of his latest victim, Leonard James, in his arms like one would a small babe. The detective was leaning back in the chair with his feet up on the table, curls wet from a recent shower if his current attire were to be believed. He wore an old t-shirt that was three sizes too big and slid down one shoulder under his blue silk dressing gown, and a pair of lose black pajama bottoms.

All in all it wasn't too hard to deduce that the man had snuck out from under the watchful eye of his pet under the guise of going to bed yet he couldn't help but wonder why.

"Have you enjoyed your presents?"

Sherlock smiled and there was something sinister in it. His canines seemed to lengthen just for a moment.

"Very much so. Five down, one to go."

"How did you find me?" He asked, moving to sit on his desk directly in front of his love who chuckled.

"It wasn't too hard. I've always known where you were, Moriarty. Even before that night at the pool I kept track of the whispers and the rumors. Our game started long before either of us knew."

The consulting criminal leaned forward until he was only a hairs breath away from his detective, who, to his surprise showed no fear. Instead the man leaned forward and brushed their lips together in a kiss that set his whole world aflame. For so long he'd dreamed of this moment, fantasizing of the day their lips and minds finally met and connected. With the recent incident, he'd strongly doubted this day would come but it was finally here.

He deepened the kissed, running his tongue across the seem of his lips like he'd been born to do so and Sherlock moaned softly. After a moment he pulled away panting, staring at his detective in wonder.

"The last dog is in the basement." He murmured.

Sherlock looked up at him, silver eyes half-lidded, a dark smile playing on his lips.

"Is that so?"

"I was going to kidnap you tomorrow so that you could come play with us. However you're here now. Would you like to play, Sherlylocks?"

The soft manic giggle that left the other man's lips sent a rush of arousal down his spine and he shivered, biting back a groan. The detective would be the death of him, he was certain of it.

He stood, helping the slimmer man to his feet before leading him from the room.

When they entered the basement their captive was awake, his eyes widening as he saw Sherlock. Fear flashed in them but was covered by a false bravado.

"You're that slut from the other night." He sneered. "What decided to have your friend take revenge for you?"

Sherlock smiled pleasantly at him, his eyes gleaming brightly.

"We just want to have a little  _fun_." He purred and the man flinched, switching tactics.

"Hey, wait! Please! I'm sorry!" He cried and Sherlock shook his head.

"Not yet," His fangs lengthened and the man whimpered in fear, "but you will be."

Moriarty swallowed dryly, feeling himself harden as the darker side of his detective came out to play. He watched spellbound as the man picked up a small piece of the chain left over from the earlier captor and swung it at Timothy, hitting him across the chest.

The man cried out, jerking as the chain came down again and again, the blows hitting the same spot over and over in precise movements. After a few minutes Sherlock paused and dropped the chain, circling the chair thoughtfully. Then an unholy smirk crossed his features and he removed his captive's pants and under garments, wrapping the chain around one of the man's muscular thighs and pulling it tight.

Timothy screamed as it tightened and a loud crack sounded as the bone in the leg shattered under the pressure. The detective continued to pull with super human strength until the leg was cleaved straight through in a spectacular spray of blood.

James licked his lips, taking in the sight of the blood staining his love's pale skin, paying no mind to the coppery tang on his tongue. A high pitch cackle left Sherlock's lips and he moved on to the next leg, repeating the process. When he finished he turned and picked up a sharp scalpel from the table of tools against the wall and kneeled.

"No more! Please, no more. Please." Timothy sobbed, trying to jerk away from him. His pleas went ignored as the vengeful beauty grabbed his genitals and began to separate them from his body.

The scream that left his lips was positively horrific and Jim shivered in delight, watching as more blood coated his vixen.

"Please, no more." Sherlock mocked , yanking the appendage away with a vicious snarl. His victim let out a blood chilling scream before falling lip, the pain sending him into unconsciousness.

The detective slapped him awake, breaking his jaw in the process.

"Stay awake. We haven't even begun to make you pay for your actions yet."

Moriarty smirked, handing the beauty a bone saw. Sherlock smiled in thanks and began to saw away his assailant's arm, watching the man scream silently.

All to soon, it was all over and the man lay in pieces all over the room. Sherlock smiled in satisfaction, silver eyes glowing in his blood lust and fangs digging into his plush bottom lip. Moriarty's arms came up to wrap around his waist and he growled lowly in Sherlock's ear.

"Come, we have much to discuss. Don't you agree?"

He shivered and pressed closer to the body behind him.

"Indeed."

**TBC...**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Fifteen minutes later found them both freshly showered and back in Moriarty's study, in the same positions they'd been in was sitting reclined in Moriarty's office chair while the consulting criminal sat in front of him on the desk, scrutinizing him carefully. Sherlock stared back at him, full lips curled into a tiny smile.

"You're confused." He began and his criminal nodded.

"You have fangs." He responded and the detective huffed in annoyance.

"Yes, thank you for that obvious understatement."

Jim sent him an annoyed look. "Explain."

"Caderyn found me after they left me in the alley. I was so ashamed of myself and in so much pain and when he appeared I thought he'd come to finish what they started and I begged him to spare me. He, in turn offered me power, a way to get revenge. I refused it."

The criminal frowned, tilting his head curiously. "Yet you have fangs." He reiterated and Sherlock nodded.

"He ignored my refusal and changed me any ways. I later found out that had he done as I asked, I would've died. Sometimes, I resent him taking that chance from me, others," He shrugged. "I am thankful."

"What is he? What are you?"

He smiled.

"Vampire. Father is the last Vampire Lord in existence. I am the youngest of his children."

Jim frowned deeply. "You're immortal."

His love nodded again and he scowled. "You'll outlive me."

The vixen looked away, shivering at the thought and Jim snarled at him, grabbing his face and forcing him to face him. To his surprise, the man's eyes were full of frustrated tears.

"I don't want to." Sherlock responded honestly. "I don't want to go back to living in a world full of goldfish and boredom. Where there is no challenge, no change. Just ignorance and-and-"

"Shhh. Haven't you learned yet, Sherlock?" He interrupted. "You are  **mine.** You aren't allowed to live if I don't. Ever. Change me."

Sherlock gasped, staring at him as if he'd just said the most blasphemous thing he'd ever heard. His eyes, however, were full of longing and indecision.

"Change me." Moriarty repeated. "Then our game,  _The_ Game can go on forever. We can play as well as we can love."

Slowly the detective nodded and stood.

"Forever?" He whispered and Moriarty smiled.

"Forever." He promised.

Large, yet dainty hands came up to hold him in place and he bared his neck in anticipation. Moments later, he felt a pair of sharp fangs enter the tender flesh of his throat and his smile widened.

Forever.

* * *

"Where the hell have you been?" John snapped at his best friend as the detective entered their flat with a small smile playing on his lips.

The man ignored him, pale eyes dancing with a light they'd been missing since his disappearance months prior. Seeing it made John falter in his rant and look at Caderyn, who he'd called after discovering that Sherlock was missing earlier that morning. He'd assumed that the detective had gone to visit the man,yet the man had denied such a thing, stating he hadn't seen Sherlock since his visit three days prior.

They'd been talking about contacting Mycroft when the detective had finally returned with a bouquet of white red-tipped roses and a small smile.

"Lockie?" Lord DeLaRose called and Sherlock spun around, blushing faintly.

"Father. John." He greeted and the red-head stood.

"Are you alright, Childe? You gave Doctor Watson quite the scare when he found you missing this morning. Your mother as well."

"I was fine. Another present came last night and I went to follow up on it."

John frowned.

Moriarty's morbid gifts to Sherlock seemed to be putting the detective in a good mood despite the fact that they were  _wrong_  and nothing he did made Sherlock realize that they were bad. It was like since that night in the warehouse all of Sherlock's regard for Moriarty's victims had gone out the window. He looked at the bouquet in the detective's arms, realizing with startling clarity that the red tipping the white petals was actually blood.

He gasped.

"Is- Is that blood?" he whispered and his friend frowned at him.

"Obviously."

"Sherlock!" He snapped and the man flinched away from him, cradling the roses closer. This just enraged John more.

"Is your entire regard for humanity just gone?!" He yelled at him and the detective flinched again, scowling.

"Of course not! But not all of us can be a  _saint_!" He spat, pale eyes flashing. "Some of us want for vengeance, for those who wrong us to suffer! Is it really so wrong of me to enjoy the fact that someone is willing to take that vengeance for me?" His voice lowered and he looked down.

"Does that make me a freak?"

Caderyn sent John a dark look, making him stay his tongue then pulled the broken man into his arms.

"Of course it doesn't, My Childe. It makes you human. Each of those disgusting bastards got what they deserve. Never be ashamed of yourself for moving past it and being relieved about that."

Sherlock nodded but didn't seem to believe the man's words and John felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't wanted to hurt his friend, he just wanted to remind him of his humanity, that he was better that the monsters that had tried to break him.

He opened his mouth to apologize, only to cry out as his friend wavered on his feet and collapse in Lord DeLaRose's arms, head lolling on his shoulder.

"Sherlock! What's wrong with him?"

Caderyn ignored him, taking a seat on the sofa with the man in his arms. Then to John's surprise he raised his wrist to his lips and bit down hard enough to draw blood. He placed the bleeding appendage to Sherlock's lips paying no mind as Mycroft entered and froze. Sherlock latched on immediately, suckling like a babe would it's mother's teat. Both John and Mycroft watched them wide-eyed and Caderyn stared back in amusement.

"What the hell have you done to him?" Mycroft breathed out and the vampire smirked.

"I saved his life." He responded, before he proceeded to explain just how close to death Sherlock had come the night of his disappearance and how he'd saved him. He explained how Sherlock had collapsed due to malnutrition and from not feeding from his Sire like he was supposed to. By the time he finished both men were staring at the suckling Detective in a new light, proud of his strength and sad that he'd had to suffer the way he had.

"Shut up." Sherlock rumbled pulling away from his Sire who chuckled.

"No one was speaking, Little One."

"You were thinking, it's annoying."

Caderyn smirked.

"Tell me, Childe. How is your mate?"

Neither Mycroft nor John had ever seen Sherlock blush so hard.

"I turned him."

John raised an eyebrow. "Who's your mate?"

"Moriarty."

Somehow John had expected that.

**TBC...**


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse 10 years into the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: After a wonderful year long journey this story is finally coming to an end. Thank you all for all you support and please remember to read and review. Please enjoy the final installment of Human Error.

**Epilogue**

_**Ten years later...** _

Caderyn smiled brightly as he stared across his back yard at all his children. Ten years had passed since the day he'd changed Sherlock Holmes and in that time his family had grown by four. Jim had been changed as by Sherlock as his mate. Then Mycroft had been changed so that he could stay with his little brother, his mate Anthea following right behind him. And finally there was John Watson who had yet to have found his mate. All in all he was very happy with the way his family had grown and all because of that one preciously broken detective.

He watched as all of his children lounged around the back yard, laughing and joking. They were all so happy, even Sherlock who'd finally been able to heal from his ordeal a few years ago. Thanks to his mate, he was finally back to his "old self" according to John and Mycroft.

Even now, his youngest childe was lying under the shade of one of the tall oak trees in the yard, curled close to his mate who was holding him lovingly and talking on the phone at the same time. The two still played their roles in the outside world. Moriarty still set up cases for Sherlock who solved them and he knew that it would be a game that would never grow old between them.

Lizzie wrapped her arms around his waist and sighed happily.

"Look at them. Our family. Isn't it beautiful?" She whispered and he nodded.

"It is, isn't it. And they're all so happy." He replied, watching as John and Matt wrestled playfully. The mild-mannered doctor had flourished since becoming one of them and it showed in his laid back manner and playful nature.

Matt pinned the ex-soldier with a grin, then helped him up.

"Close, lil bro. I still got years of experience over you."

John rolled his eyes, glancing over at Moriarty and Sherlock.

"You two figure out when our next case is?" He asked and Sherlock waved a negligent hand.

"Solved it already." He responded and John groaned falling back into the grass. Caderyn chuckled and pulled his wife closer.

Yes, this was how life should be.

* * *

Sherlock sighed contently as he lay in the arms of his mate, a rumbling purr leaving his lips when the man ran his callous fingers through his hair.

Jim chuckled. "Are you happy?" He asked quietly and Sherlock hummed.

"I am."

"Good." Jim replied, pulling him closer. He went along willingly, purring as the criminal nibbled on his throat lightly.

In the ten years since he'd turned his mate, things had finally come together for him. He no longer felt a manic need to prove himself, nor did he feel the need to prove his worth to everyone around him, if only to contradict their ignorance. With the help of his parents and his mate, he'd finally healed from the horrible night that had started it all, and he was better for it.

Then there was the little surprise he'd yet to tell his husband about.

He smiled and bared his neck further, moaning in pleasure as the other male's fangs slid into the tender flesh of his throat. His arms came up to wrap around the shorter man, holding him in place and he slid he bit down on his mate's shoulder, whining as warm blood rushed into his mouth.

One of Jim's hands slid down his spine to rest on his ass and he mewled around his mouthful of blood. The criminal pulled away, leaving him gasping from unneeded breath, lips marred a beautiful crimson with his blood.

"We're gonna be parents." He announced and his mate raised an eyebrow.

"When?"

"About six months, give or take?"

Jim's eyes widened and with nary another word he fell back unconscious. Sherlock huffed, but a playful smile danced on his lips as he stared down at the man fondly.

His life was finally looking up...and he wouldn't have it any other way.

**FIN.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Annnnd that's a wrap. Don't forget to review and tell me what you think. No flames please, especially if you didn't read the warnings.


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